When Sam left for California we sipped wine from the same box we drank when Kelly left for Colorado.
Tomorrow Anna and Joel come home from New Mexico.
Kelly followed invitations for graduate school interviews while Stephanie roamed for mountains to climb and stretches of sky to slack-line. Anna and Joel been makin’ music.
It’s mid-March and I’m at home proud to say I haven’t shaved my legs this year. I don’t think that shaving my legs makes me oppressed by society, but I do think that if I shave my leg hairs I will miss them when they’re gone. After all, I watched them blossom.
I also write down what’s happening in my life and what’s on my mind. We all have different types of creativity.
Just like having a body mind or soul, being creative is something that makes us human. It’s a glitter invested biological trait that we all possess, and there are many different types. There are no limits in the creative game. Who’s to say how many types there are, or what qualifies as a type? I’m sure if you and I got together we would come up with an immaculate form of creativity that someone else might label deviant. To each her own is tough medicine to sallow. In Colorado, Kelly confessed that she envied our friends’ and even my own abilities to express ourselves creatively, as opposed to academically, like her. She rightfully knows she’s amazing, and wasn’t truly upset, but still I told her, no way girlfriend.
We seem to lust after the green grass on the other side. We want what we feel we don’t have. I don’t have a remedy for that, but creativity is a gift we are given, not a disease we need to fix in ourselves. I admire the landscaper, the chief, the single mom, the mathematician, for all they can do. While I’d say (needles to say) creativity can be a lover, it is not a significant other. You don’t have a “type.” Being creative is who you are, whoever you want to be on any given day. When you can see the bright sides of your own creative geniuses, instead of feeling intimidated by other wonders around you, why envy?
When I was in high school I was convinced that I wasn’t creative. All of my friends were artists, and people frequently asked me if I was one too. I said no. I thought because I couldn’t paint my poems into actual forms of visual art to properly hang on a wall, I wasn’t creative. Years after daydreaming in high school I realized I am just as creative, capable, and valid as anyone else.
To be you is an art. Nobody else could do it. It’s a skill to get your kids to school on time, or to keep yourself out of the gutter, or to wear a shirt that might be a little far out, perhaps even deviant. Clarissa makes jewelry, Benjamin grows vegetables, and I bring home boxes from work and use each side as a canvas to paint on. Maybe it’s just a way of laughing at the high school me, but I definitely hang my art on the walls.
Ya know how you make your own happiness? You can pick any outlet of creativity too. Feel the rhythm and see what makes you spin.
WITCH’S SPELL: SAY IT AND YOU BELIEVE IT
Many crayons in a box
Many stones in a stream
Many different types
Box of crayons
Stream of Pebbles
Different types of creativity
On so many levels